


All that Heaven-y Stuff

by twopinkcarnations



Series: Familiar Face [1]
Category: Cheers (TV), The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twopinkcarnations/pseuds/twopinkcarnations
Summary: Sam Malone dies and finds himself in the Good Place. Luckily Michael is there to fill him in on all the details he needs to know in the afterlife.





	All that Heaven-y Stuff

_Welcome!_ , the wall proclaims. _Everything is fine._

A door opens, and a man in a suit and bowtie steps into the waiting room.

“Sam, come on in.”

Sam stands and adjusts his shirt before following the man with the white hair inside his office. It looked like somewhere Diane would feel at ease. Sam sits when the other man does.

“Hi, Sam. I’m Michael.”

Sam leans back in his chair in his usual sprawl. He eyes the man sitting before him with curiosity.

“Am I drunk? Is this some kind of rehab facility?”

Michael puts his hands up.

“No, no. Certainly not. You haven’t had a drink since 1984.”

“Thank god.”

“But you are dead,” Michael says.

Sam nods and rubs his jaw. He leans forward in his chair, more interested (and a little more concerned) than before.

“No kidding?”

“No.”

Sam licks his lips and looks around the office again.

“Is this Hell?”

If Sam hadn’t been surveying the room, he might’ve noticed the brief glint of anger that flashed over Michael’s face when he said that. But Sam’s distracted for long enough that Michael has time to school his face into something warmer and friendlier.

“You’re in the Good Place, Sam.”

Sam gives a crooked grin.

“Hey, that’s great! So, uh, when do I get to see all my dead relatives and eat endless ice cream and all that Heaven-y stuff?”

“All in good time,” Michael says. “There’s a lot to take in, and I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Can I at least get a coffee?”

“Of course. Janet?”

A woman appears out of nowhere.

“Hi there!”

“Whoa,” Sam says, eyeing her appreciatively. “Who’s this little lady?”

“This is Janet. She’s what you might call an interdimensional supercomputer. Janet, would you bring this man a cup of coffee in his favorite mug, please?”

“Certainly.”

In a fraction of a second, she disappears and reappears. She is holding a familiar brown mug to him. The coffee steams.

“Hey, thanks, baby.”

“I’m not your baby.”

Sam takes it from her and enjoys a long sip.

“It tastes like home.”

Janet vanishes.

“Alright, so no relatives or ice cream. Or virgins either, I'm guessing—”

Michael almost laughs at Sam’s amended request for virgins. The man obviously had a good sense of humor. And he seemed extremely laid back compared to the other humans. It would almost be a shame to torture him.

“—Can you at least tell me how I kicked the bucket?”

Michael pulls out Sam’s file. He opens it to the last page.

“You died in your bar on October 26, 2017. You were 69 years old. You saw a woman named Gina Meadows, 28, walk in. You then proceeded to try to hop over the bar, but your hand slipped on some spilled beer, which caused you to hit your head on the counter, the bar, a stool, and the floor on your way down.”

He rubs the back of his head with a wince. He can only imagine the pain, not to mention the embarrassment, of his death. Had Norm and Cliff seen him? Had _Carla?_

“What a way to go, huh? At least I know the girl’s name now. Gosh, she was pretty…Hey, um, Michael, right? Did she, you know. Try to revive me or anything? Mouth to mouth?”

Michael folds his hands over Sam’s file and leans forward on his desk.

“I don’t think you really want me to answer that."

Sam sighs in defeat.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Sam leans back in his chair. Michael was right; this _was_ a lot to take in.

“Look,” Michael says. “I’m sure you’re tired. Why don’t I show you to your home?”

Sam hops up and rubs his hands together, suddenly rejuvenated.

“Oh boy, I can’t wait to see my big ol’ mansion in the sky.”

Michael snaps his fingers, and suddenly they are standing in what Sam knows all too well is the Miller’s house. Michael opens the front door, but Sam stays planted.

“Oh no. This can’t be right.”

Michael smiles.

“I can assure you that this house has been designed to fit all your needs and desires.”

“Uh uh. No way. This is the Miller’s house.”

“Sam?”

Sam blinks and turns to Michael. He points to inside the door.

“That’s not—You’re telling me that she—”

Before Michael can explain, Diane is standing before him.

“Oh, Sam, it really _is_ you! Michael told me you’d be coming today! We finally get to make this house a home!”

Stunned, Sam enters the house behind his former fiancé.

When the door shuts behind them, Michael dances with glee. There was no doubt in his mind that the two of them would driving each other crazier than any sort of lava monster or torture device ever could.


End file.
